


Love in Many Forms

by nevereverever



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Anxiety Attacks, Caretaking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Diabetes, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Holsom if you squint, Love, M/M, Mom Friend Eric Bittle, Sick Character, Sleep Deprivation, in many forms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-17 00:42:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15449535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevereverever/pseuds/nevereverever
Summary: Eric Richard Bittle is a Class A Mom Friend, and you better bet this bunch of rascals need him from time to time. But sometimes, even the greatest Mom Friends need to be mom-edor5 times Bitty mom-ed his friends, and 1 time they mom-ed him right back.





	1. 5

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy has this fic been a long time comin! I swear I've been writing it since the day I was first introduced to these lil idiots. Bitty care taking and getting cared for is my kryptonite, I swear to god. Enjoy friends!

The fire alarms at Faber were notoriously loud and awful. Whenever they went off (all too frequently) there were piercing screeches that bounced off the walls in a way that tended to make people dizzy, and bright flashing lights inundating every square inch of the rink.

Fire alarms at morning practice sucked the most of any of the potential fire alarm situations. They were skating suicides when they first went off, so no one but Jack was really upset that they had to stop. Holster mumbled something angrily about acoustics before they all went to leave.

They tumbled out the doors to the rink with their gear still on. It was an unseasonably warm fall day, and the sun was beating down on them. The alarms were loud even outside the building.

Bitty carefully walked over to Shitty who was leaning against a tree. He figured Shitty would have something funny to say about all of this. 

“Some kind of luck this is,” he said, pulling off his helmet to reveal a mop of unruly blond hair. 

“Yeah,” Shitty replied, uncharacteristically terse. He leaned his head against the tree, and Bitty could see the twisted expression on his face through his hair.

“Hey, you doin' okay? ” Bitty put his still gloved hand onto Shitty’s shoulder. The alarms stopped ringing and his face relaxed a little, so Bitty felt like he knew what was going on.

Shitty thought about his answer for a second, before realizing he didn’t really have it in him to lie, especially to Bitty.

“Nah, brah, I’m not feeling too hot,” he admitted, closing his eyes to the light that was trying to stab him in the fucking brain with asshole knives.

“Got a migraine?” Bitty pulled off his glove and pressed a hand to his friends face to check for a fever. He found nothing, but Shitty flinched at the touch, which led him to believe he was touch sensitive too. Poor guy.

“Yeah,” Shitty sighed. The rest of the team had walked back inside, leaving just the two of them huddled underneath the tree. Someone would notice they were gone eventually.

“Let’s get you home, okay?” Shitty nodded passively, wincing at the pain it ignited in his head and neck. Bitty slung an arm around his shoulders and helped him back into the rink to change. 

When Shitty woke up a few hours later after a lot of Excedrin and Gatorade, he opened his eyes to find a new bottle of pain meds, a bottle of coke, a sleeve of saltines, a slice of pie, and a little sticky note with a messy scrawl. Woozily, Shitty grabbed the note.

“You take care of yourself, Mister! I hope this helps <3 Bitty”

 

 

Everybody knew Something Was Wrong when Ransom and Holster didn’t show up for practice. There was a bug going around and everyone had been crossing their fingers and toes that it wouldn’t make it to the hockey team. But both captains not showing up to practice was a clear sign: Something Was Wrong.

Bitty steeled himself before walking into the attic when he got back to the Haus that morning. He had no idea what he would find there, and what kind of state his friends might be in.

They were on the floor. Both of them, cuddled up on the floor, surrounded by and covered in blankets. Holster was starfished out across the floor nest, and Ransom was curled up around him, half draped across Holster’s chest. It would have been adorable if they didn’t both look like death warmed over, all pale and sweaty.

They looked like they were dozing, but the disruption of Bitty walking in roused them just slightly.

“Hi, Bitty,” they said, more or less in conjunction, like students when they greet their teacher in the morning. Bitty giggled.

“Hi boys! Want to tell me why you missed practice to sleep on the floor?” Bitty cocked his head to the side with a sad little smile and briefly considered snapping a picture of them before they moved.

“We’re sick,” Ransom replied as if that explained their whole situation.

“Very throwing up sick. Both of us,” Holster added helpfully. He punctuated his statement by pulling Ransom closer to him.

“Okay, and you’re sleeping on the floor because?” Bitty walked to the window to close the blinds and grabbed the trash bag on his way.

“The beds aren’t big enough for two people, and Holtzy kept getting cold,” Ransom said, his words dropping off as if he was starting to fall asleep. Bitty’s heart just about broke at that one.

“We’re having sick bro cuddle time. It’s dope,” Holster said, pulling more blankets toward him.

“Sorry we didn’t come to practice. We thought maybe we could make a play out of this, but also probably not.” Holster said.

“Standing is hard,” Ransom added with a yawn and then a little whiny noise. He curled up a little tighter into Holster’s arms, who in turn nuzzled his cheek against Ransom’s head. This adorable but sad action snapped Bitty back into caretaker mode, and he quickly started making a list of things he needed.

“Okay, I’m going to grab some medicine and cook up some soup. Y’all get back to sleep, I’ll be back in a bit,” Bitty surveyed the scene again and wondered if he should get them up off the floor.

And… they were already asleep.

 

 

Bitty was not used to finding people in his kitchen early in the morning. He wasn’t an early riser by any definition of the word, but he was one of few college boys that made breakfast on a regular basis. 

He had a couple of things to do in the kitchen that morning. He had to make himself food (obviously), feed his sourdough starter Elaine, and put in a loaf of bread he had left to rise overnight. All of that flew straight out of his mind when he saw the state Ford was in.

The kitchen table was covered in books, notebooks, pens, and way too many cups of coffee. Ford was entrenched in them. Her eyes were bloodshot and her hair disheveled. She had music blasting in her headphones so she didn’t hear him walk in.

He gently tapped her on the shoulder and she jumped at the touch. She took off her headphones and looked up at him 

“Good morning, honey,” he said, his voice soft. He rubbed at her too tight shoulders, trying to get her guard down.

“Morning, Bitty!” She put on her best cheerful face, but it wasn’t nearly as convincing as she thought it was. Guard distinctly still up.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” Bitty pulled a chair out and sat across from her. He tried to catch her gaze, but her eyes kept flitting from paper to paper. It was like she was trying to look at everything at once.

“It just a busy week. A couple of projects, a stupid huge problem set for DiffEq, the performance of the devised piece we’ve been working on, plus the roadie this weekend-” Ford rambled down her list easily, glancing to look at her computer where there were even more things that wouldn’t fit on the list in her head. Bitty interrupted.

“Hon, when was the last time you slept?” He tried to reach the sweet spot between his captain voice and his comfort voice. It was silent for a second, and Bitty braced for impact. Ford caught his eyes, and suddenly she was all teary.

“Monday, I think,” she said, her voice catching over the words. She took a big gasping breath in. Bitty got out of his chair and pulled her into a hug. 

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. You are going upstairs to take a nap in my bed for as long as you need. When you wake up, we’re gonna talk all this out. I know it feels like a lot right now, but we can sort it out. Sound good?”

“Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Bitty.”

 

 

Bitty lived in freshman dorms, and then in a frat house, so he was pretty used to getting woken up in the middle of the night. One thing he wasn’t used to was hearing a blood-curdling scream from across the hall.

Bitty was up and out of bed quicker than a blink. The screaming had stopped by the time he reached Chowders room, but that did not stop him from knocking.

“Chowder, you okay in there?” Bitty heard some mumbling on the other side of the door and decided to take his chances on opening it.

“Bitty! Hi,” Chowder said, clearly sleep drunk and disoriented, “what are you doing here?” 

“You were screaming, so I figured I’d check on you,” Bitty said, taking a few steps closer to his friend's bed. Chowder looked sweaty and pale in the dim light of the window.

“Oh. I need to- I have to check my blood sugar. Sometimes this happens when it gets too low.” Chowder reached over to his bedside table to grab his blood glucose meter. With a casual manner Bitty would never really understand, he pricked his finger with it and squeezed out a little drop of blood. They were quiet for a second until the little thing beeped.

“Umm, could you grab-umm grab that bottle of tablets over there? I just, I’m not sure if I could stand without falling, and I don't think it's worth the risk now that you're here,” Chowder’s voice was a little shaky, and it was making Bitty ten kinds of nervous.

“Of course,” Bitty said quietly, grabbing the requested bottle and hopping up on the bed next to Chowder, “need anything else?” There was a silence for a moment as Chowder popped the tablet in his mouth and chewed.

“Yeah. This is probably weird, but can you stay here for a bit? I -- I might have another nightmare, and it’s better if there’s someone here.” Bitty nearly melted. This kid was going to be the death of him one day. He didn't know how Farmer went on.

“It’s not weird to need someone when you feel bad. Of course, I’ll stay with you.” Bitty leaned back against the headboard and smiled when Chowder plopped his head down into his lap. He ran a hand through his friend’s hair and took a deep breath. 

 

 

Jack <3: hey bits  
Jack <3: you done at the market?  
Bits: Almost! You need something sugar?  
Jack <3: come home?  
Bits: On my way. Do you need to call?  
Jack <3: probably not

When Bitty got home, he was puffing a little. The elevator in their building was shut down for maintenance, so he had run up 4 flights of stairs to get to Jack as fast as possible, plus he was carrying his bags from the market. After fumbling for his key for a minute, he got through the door and dropped his produce at the threshold.

“Honey?” Bitty called out before he realized Jack was sitting in the living room just a few feet away.

“Bits,” Jack sighed, his figure slumped across the couch. Bitty saw his posture relax just a little.

“Hey. Will you be okay if I touch you?” Bitty took a step towards Jack. In response, Jack just opened his arms. Bitty climbed into Jack’s lap and wrapped his arms tightly around his boyfriend. Jack softened a little with the touch, and nestled his head in Bitty’s shoulder.

“I’m tired,” Jack sighed

“Do you want to go lie down? Maybe take a nap?” Bitty said, knowing full well he would be turned down. He just needed to ask, for his own sake.

“No, I just want you to be here.” Jack said, shaking his head into his boyfriend’s shoulder. Bitty could feel Jack's heart racing and decided to lay off on the questions until he started to breathe normally again. Jack was shivering too, from cold or panic it was hard to tell, so Bitty leaned back to grab a blanket draped over the back of the couch. Jack whined at the loss of contact.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I should have told you,” Bitty said, running a hand through Jack’s hair, “I’m just grabbing a blanket to warm you up, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re the best blanket in the world,” Jack replied, rubbing his cheek on the soft material of Bitty’s shirt.

“I try my hardest, darlin’.”


	2. +1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey folks! hope you enjoy this "bitty gets mom-ed" <3

It took his friends a few weeks to notice that something was really wrong. The conspicuous lack of baked goods, the deep immersion into running, the dim tones of a usually sunshine bright smile. It took them a while because the signs weren’t overwhelming. Each person noticed one change in Bitty, how he talked, the music he was listening to, the way he moved on ice. 

It took 2 and a half weeks, a night long group chat, and a hundred missed signs before they figured it out, and they were ashamed they didn’t notice sooner.

It was Shitty who renamed their group chat “Mission Mompossible: Bit-tervension.” It added just a little levity to a conversation where they were all trying to figure out how the fuck they had let it slip past them that Bitty was not okay. What they all really needed that night was for someone to tell them it wasn’t their fault, but that was always Bitty’s job. 

So it felt like it was their fault.

They set the Bit-tervension, as they had taken to calling it, for the next weekend they could all get to Providence. Jack promised them a place to stay and dietitian-approved meals, though most of them would have slept on the street if it meant they could support their bro. In the meantime, Holster told him to hug Bitty just a little tighter for all of them.

In the week between the formation of their fateful group chat and the Bit-tervension, it got worse.

Jack reported back that Bitty was drawing into himself, that he was talking less, sleeping less, that his smile was fading more every day. Ransom expressed how they were all feeling when he wrote: “I just wish we could do more.”

Bitty was working until 6 on Friday, so Jack told them all to get there at 5. None of them were really cooks, and despite being 4 large grown men and 1 tiny woman who could eat like a beast, none of them were really hungry, but Lardo heated some food up so they could all eat if they wanted to. 

When they heard Bitty knock, everyone froze. Lardo made a ‘calm down’ hand motion at all of them and kept the conversation going. Like nothing was happening.

“Sweetpea, I’m home!” Bitty called from the doorway. He sounded tired. Almost reflexively, Ransom and Holster yelled back.

“Fooooiiine!” Bitty turned, and his face brightened just a little at the sight of them.

“Boys? What are you doing here?” Bitty took a few tentative steps toward the couches where they were sitting. Jack grabbed his wrist and tugged him towards a chair, and when he sat, his brows knitted together at the looks on all of their faces.

“Bits,” Shitty started, his voice softer and more careful than usual, “we came here today because we all realized that you are not okay,” Lardo winced, “Shit, I’m fucking this up. Bitty- we know that you’re going through a rough time right now, and we want to help.” 

There was a deafening silence as Bitty looked at all of their worried eyes and thought about what they meant. And he shook his head.

“Y’all are so sweet, but I‘m fine, really. You don’t- I don’t want you to worry about me,” he said, putting on a big smile and straightening up in the chair.

“We only worry about you because we care, okay? You aren’t putting anything on us. Even if you were, we would take it because we’re your friends and we love you,” Ransom responded, almost without thinking.

“Honestly Bitty, how are you doing?” Lardo asked, sounding more sincere and less sarcastic than she almost ever did.

“I told you guys, I’m fine. I’m really fine.”

“You aren’t though! You haven’t laughed in a week,” Jack said, pushing down the tears building in his throat. Holster put a hand on Jack’s back to steady him. It was a quiet ‘be strong for him.’

“In the past 3 years, you have helped all of us, everyone who knows you really, so much. Right now, let us help you,” Holster pleaded.

Inside Bitty, something snapped. There was a burn and a sting, but the tension that had been building in him for weeks started to falter. He looked down at the rug, not willing to let his friends see him like this. See the look in his eyes. He didn’t want to let them help because he didn’t want for something to be wrong.

But something was wrong. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he said, voice monotone. He kept his eyes on the ground, desperately trying to keep it together.

“You have nothing to be sorry about because you didn’t do anything wrong," Shitty said, shaking his head.

“Yes I did! I made y’all so worried about me, and I made Jack sad, and-” he took a second to stop himself, “and now all of you are here, instead of enjoying your weekend with someone who doesn’t ruin other people’s lives.” His words were like a punch to the stomach for all of them. The air was knocked out off the room, and the silence was only broken by the sound of Bitty finally giving in and starting to cry.

Everyone was still sort of frozen save for Jack, who grabbed Bitty’s hands and pushed their foreheads together.

“Bud, I don’t know if you think you ruined my life or yours, but I have to tell you that it isn’t true. Whatever your brain is telling you isn’t true. Nothing is ruined, nothing.” Shitty grabbed hold of Lardo’s waist, and Ransom leaned back against Holster’s legs. They knew they were witnessing something intimate, and they weren’t the one to help. Not right then.

“I’m sorry. Everything was going great and I ruined it.”

“No, no, don’t think that, don’t you dare. Sure things are broken right now but they were breaking long before we came out. Baby, please, nothing is ruined.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Bitty let his head fall onto Jack’s shoulder. They all sat in silence for a while, trying their best to be a comforting presence while Bitty cried himself out. Lardo got up to do the dishes, Holster put a hand on Bitty’s thigh.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

When Bitty stopped crying, he leaned against Jack and sighed. The tension in his chest wasn’t gone, but his friends knew it was there and were dedicated to unwinding it, step by step. Shitty checked his watch and his face lit up.

“Hey! There’s a Bruins v Caps game on in a few minutes. I know we have more talking to do so we can get everyone on the same page about how loved and appreciated Bitty is, but for right now?” And then the most miraculous thing happened. Bitty laughed.

“Yeah, that’d be great Shits. Oh, have you all gotten something to eat? I can’t believe I didn’t-” Ransom wrapped his arms around Bitty’s legs to stop him from getting up.

“No! It is taking care of Bitty night, there will be no cooking for us!”

“What if cooking for you will make me feel better?” Bitty looked down at him with the cutest puppy dog eyes Ransom had ever seen in his life, and reluctantly, he let go of his friend. 

“Fine, but only because Jack’s diet meals were gross and I love you,” Justin leaned back against the couch again and smiled a little. This was their Bitty. Different, and a little broken, but him.

“I’m thinkin’ brown butter snickerdoodles. Lord knows I don’t have the energy for a pie right now.” He tried to still his shaking hands as he reached for the flour. Jack was right behind him, grabbing the bag with ease and handing it to him. Bitty tried to smile a little but suddenly he was back to thinking about everything that was wrong.

“Bits, do you want to honestly tell me why you’re making that face?” Everyone else was on the couch, already immersed in the game, so Jack only had to lower his voice a little to keep the conversation private.

“Sorry, it’s just, baking is part of what makes me feel at home. And it gets me thinking about whether I’ll ever feel at home in my kitchen in Madison again.” He started mixing together the dry ingredients, reminding himself to breathe as he whisked

“You will. Are you sure you want to do this? You don’t have to-” Bitty cut him off.

“No! No. I want to. My home is here, with all of you. And if the point of this is to make me happy, this is where I’m happy. Makin' food for my friends. Now, go grab Holster, I don’t trust you to brown butter and I have to go lookin’ for our cream of tartar!” He smiled, genuine this time and Jack smiled back.

“Love you too, Bits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! Leave me a note if it brightened your day <3 also brown butter snickerdoodles are incredible

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! Leave me a note if you did! The plus one is in the next chapter, it is already too long to tag to the end of this one.


End file.
